


penalty kill

by hlundqvists



Series: taking care of the boys [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: BDSM, Choking, Daddy Kink, M/M, New York Rangers, Slapping, slight breathplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 02:36:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2411849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hlundqvists/pseuds/hlundqvists
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He can feel the way Benoit is itching for what he clearly knows is going to happen and that makes Hank wait even longer. He wants Benoit to know that his behavior is not okay, that this isn’t a reward.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>This is punishment.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	penalty kill

**Author's Note:**

> Finally finished up this second part to daddy!dom!Henke series! I had intended to have this second part delve more into Hank and Marc's relationship but then I just got struck with a plot bunny of Hank punishing Benny so this happened. 8|
> 
> This is my first time writing something quite like this so I hope it's not completely terrible?? Also, feel free to leave suggestions -- either in the comments or send me an ask on tumblr -- on who I should write Hank with next for the series. 
> 
> Side note: I AM TERRIBLE AT NAMING THINGS. I APOLOGIZE FOR THE HORRID TITLE TO THIS PART.

Benoit knows from the look Hank sends his way that he’s going to be punished after the game. He _knows_ from the glare Hank sends as he skates from the penalty box to the bench that it’s going to hurt, that he’s going to feel it for days.

It sends a thrill down his spine and he flashes a grin in Hank’s direction.

He can see the anger flare brighter in Hank’s eyes.

_**Fuck.** _

It’s been a month since he’s needed punishment. He’s excited.

///

Hank waits for the locker room to clear. He won’t do this with the others here. He’s not going to give Benoit that type of satisfaction. Not tonight.

He can feel the way Benoit is itching for what he clearly knows is going to happen and that makes Hank wait even longer. He wants Benoit to know that his behavior is _not_ okay, that this isn’t a reward.

This is punishment.

Forty minutes pass by in silence before Hank finally stands. Benoit snaps his head up to attention, watching carefully.

"You’re an insolent little shit, aren’t you, Benoit?"

Hank comes to a halt in front of where Benoit is seated — Benny’s hair is still damp from his shower, towel the only thing on his body — and gazes down at him. There’s such anger in his gaze. It makes Benoit shudder and swallow slowly.

"Yes, sir, I am."

He gives a shit-eating grin after the response.

Hank reacts just the way he wants, the way he needs.

A slap is given to his right cheek — it’s hard, stinging. Before he can say another word to Hank, he’s getting slapped again. It pulls a groan from the back of his throat.

The hand quickly moves to his hair, grabbing and tugging on it hard, forcing his head back and making his eyes sting. He has no choice but to open them and look at Hank.

"You are going to stop being a selfish asshole. You are going to stop taking stupid penalties that _hurt_ the team.”

Hank keeps the grip on his hair while leaning down to bite at his lips harshly. There’s nothing sweet or loving about the kiss. Benoit is pretty sure that his lip is bleeding after it ends. He licks at it to test and ah, yes, there’s that coppery taste. He moans softly.

"You’re so fucking hot when you’re pissed, Henrik."

That earns him another slap. It feels so…. _good_. It makes him grunt and the pain spreads down his body to his dick. His erection is obvious against the towel on his lap and he wants to move, to let it slip off to the floor so Hank can see how he’s taking this so far.

"You know better than to call me that right now, /hora/."

Hank pulls Benoit’s hair harder, yanking him forward to fall down onto his knees on the floor. It jolts Benoit’s knees, makes him hiss slightly to hit the ground so hard but the towel is gone now and his dick twitches at the cool air of the room.

He doesn’t have much sway to move, not with the way Hank is still holding so tightly onto his hair like it’s a leash to keep him in place. 

He wonders what’s going to happen when he finally cuts it. Maybe Hank will buy a real leash for him then. The thought alone makes him groan and Hank tugs on his hair, staring down at him.

"I’m going to let go and you are going to stay on your knees for me. Do you understand?"

Benoit grins, batting his eyelashes at Hank.

"When have I ever not followed the rules, sir?"

Hank growls and pulls his hair even harder, making tears spring to his eyes and before he can blink, Hank is leaning down and biting down roughly under his ear.

"You will obey me or you will never get to come." The words are growled against his earlobe and for the first time Benoit can feel himself shake, can feel the submissive need to accept and obey building up.

"I understand, sir."

"Good."

A moment passes, then Hank lets go of his hair. It’s amazing he didn’t notice how much it hurt until the pressure is gone. Benoit takes a deep breath and turns his gaze up to Hank, watching and waiting for the next command.

He’s left waiting until his knees start to ache, thigh muscles burning with the effort of staying still for so long. He waits until being still almost becomes too much and then finally, _finally_ , Hank steps in front of him and taps his right cheek.

"Open."

He lets his lips part, eyes hungry as he looks up at Hank, watching as Hank unzips his pants and pulls his dick out.

There’s no pause, no brief moment of Hank waiting to make sure Benoit is ready. Hank grabs the back of Benoit’s neck and pulls him forward, dick pushing hard into his mouth. He doesn’t stop until his cock is hitting the back of Benoit’s throat.

Benoit chokes harshly, a muffled groan coming up from his chest. Tears are spilling from his eyes already because Hank isn’t pulling back or letting him go. He’s being held in place; Hank’s dick filling his mouth, choking him. 

It’s too much but it feels so good. 

Hank moans softly, his free hand moving to wipe away a few of the tears from Benoit’s cheeks.

"Such a good whore. My good little whore. Isn’t that right? You’re going to keep my dick in your mouth until I say so. Are you going to be good for me, baby boy? Are you going to be good for your Daddy?"

An answer is expected, Benoit knows this. He tries to speak, to say ‘yes, daddy’ around Hank’s cock but it only comes out as a garbled choking noise. It seems to be enough for Hank because now he’s petting Benoit’s hair slowly.

"Good boy."

Slowly, Hank starts to move. Fucking in and out of Benoit’s mouth. He doesn’t give much time for breaths to be taken; the second he pulls out, he’s thrusting back in, the head of his cock hitting Benoit’s throat every time.

It feels like it’s never going to end. Benoit can hardly breathe; his head is going fuzzy, light and there’s saliva slipping from the corners of his mouth but Hank doesn’t seem to care. He keeps fucking Benoit’s mouth, letting out the occasional soft grunt and petting Benoit’s hair a bit more furtively, silently telling him that he’s doing a good job.

Just when it seems like too much is _too much_ and Benoit is sure he’s going to pass out, Hank pulls out and groans loudly, wrapping a hand around himself and comes without warning; coating Benoit’s chin, lips, and cheeks.

Benoit doesn’t close his eyes for it. No, he keeps them open and watches Hank’s face while panting heavily. He wants to see the pleasure unfurl in Hank’s eyes, to know that he’s done a good job.

He doesn’t have to wait long to be given the praise he’s seeking.

Hank brings a hand up to Benoit’s lips, fingers smearing his come over them.

"You’re such a good little whore for me, aren’t you? You act like a petulant child but this is really what you want, isn’t it?"

Benoit whimpers, lips curling around Hank’s thumb, sucking on it briefly.

"O-oui," a breathy exhale, " _d-daddy_.”

Hank grabs him by the shoulders then, pulling him roughly up off the floor and shoves him back against the nearest wall.

"Stop acting up during games. Stop taking those wasteful penalties."

The words are growled out against Benoit’s ear and as much as he wants to respond, to say that he will be a good boy, that he’ll listen to his Daddy and behave but the words turn into a strangled cry as Hank wraps a hand around his dick.

His hips rock forward, pushing, trying to immediately get more, _more, more_ but Hank doesn’t give in; he just thumbs over the head of Benoit’s dick, nothing more. It’s so unfair. He’s been hard for so long, needing to be touched. He just wants to come now.

"You know what you have to do to get what you want."

Benoit draws in a shuddering breath, unsurprised at himself when the sensation of wetness starts to track down his cheeks. He’s so gone, so lost in the need to be good and come for Hank.

"P-please, Daddy, I’ll be g-good. I p-promise."

Hank strokes him slowly, still not giving Benoit what he completely wants.

"How will you be good for me, baby boy?"

"I’ll b-behave. I’ll be g-good and behave. P-please, Daddy, please, I w-want to c-come."

Another slow stroke. Then another, Hank’s thumb pressing to his slit hard.

"I don’t think you’ve deserved that right, baby. You were very bad tonight."

That makes him break; sobs escaping harshly as he drops his head forward onto Hank’s shoulder, body trembling. It’s suddenly extremely difficult to stand.

"P-please, please, please. _Please, Daddy, I p-promise_. I promise I-I’ll be good. I promise. I’m s-sorry. I’m s-sorry for b-being bad.”

He can hardly hear Hank over the sound of his sobs, he doesn’t know what was just murmured into his ear. All he knows is that Hank’s hand is moving fast against his dick, stroking him quickly to orgasm and it doesn’t take long for him to fall over the edge with a loud, gasping cry that he tries to muffle against Hank’s neck.

He doesn’t remember much after that. Just the sensation of Hank smoothing a hand up and down his back and kisses being pressed to his forehead. He thinks he heard a soft, “good boy, Daddy loves you, you did so good”, but he can’t be certain.

His mind only starts to clear and focus once Hank has brought him back to the showers; the soothing motions of Hank’s hands washing his hair and body brings him back down, it centers him.

Reaching out, Benoit curls his hands against Hank’s hips, leaning forward to nose against his neck.

"Hey."

Benoit smiles slowly, closing his eyes.

"Hi."

Hank reaches behind him to turn the water off, then runs a hand through his hair, gently rubbing his scalp.

"Are you good?"

It never fails to make Benoit’s chest ache; the way Hank always asks that question, the worry that’s always evident.

"Yeah, I’m good." He pulls back to look at Hank, to let him see that yes, he is okay and isn’t just saying that. “I just think I need you to drive me home. Is that okay?”

Hank smiles, looking relieved, and presses a kiss to his forehead.

"Of course, Benny. Of course that’s okay."


End file.
